Defenseless
by Julia451
Summary: "You want to destroy me, Janine? I won't try to stop you." Ever notice what he did as he said that line? A look at the thought process that led Egon Spengler to face his greatest fear during the climax of "Janine, You've Changed."


No sooner had Egon concluded that Janine must be at the waterfront than everything unconnected with the nearest route to that location was instantly obliterated from his mind. He ran in a blind, desperate urgency for at least five minutes before he suddenly remembered that he wasn't the only one looking for her, that his three friends were still wandering futilely around her neighborhood searching for what he now knew they wouldn't find there. Should he go back and tell them? Put an end to their suspense? The four of them would surely have a better chance against the ghost than he would if he took her on alone...

He discarded the idea and ran on without looking back or stopping for a second. No, he didn't have time to find them. Even if he had, he wasn't sure he would have wanted to. Some part of him felt like this was something he had to do himself, that it was his responsibility to fix this alone. But why?

He knew the answer: he couldn't help thinking that this mess was somehow his fault. His inner voice of reason insisted this was ridiculous, that he hadn't told Janine to get involved with this demon, she had done this of her own free will, he had never had any idea what was going on, Janine had made sure to conceal it from all of them, and that if he had ever known, he would have put a stop to it immediately. None of the others had suspected what was going on, but he didn't blame any of them. So why did he blame himself?

He hit the mental brick wall he almost always hit when he thought of Janine. Where she was concerned, there were places his thoughts always feared to tread. But tonight he had no choice. He had to know why she had done this if he was going to save her.

_Why would you go along with this, Janine?_ Egon asked himself as he raced to the river. Why would Janine, who knew better than to trust spirits, resort to magic to change her appearance? Why would she think she needed to? He mentally recoiled from the question, but, instead of fleeing from it like he would under less dangerous circumstances, he faced it. He admitted to himself for the first time that Janine had always been a beautiful, attractive woman, that he took as much pleasure in looking at her as he did in talking with her. Not that he had ever actively pursued either of those pleasures. He was a scientist, after all – he had to be... he _was_ above such base, pointless indulgences. Interactions with the opposite sex that men like Venkman so eagerly sought were a waste of time. Such things had never held any appeal or even interest for him, as everyone who knew him was aware, including Janine; she never would have expected anything else from him...

And she never would have suspected that he thought she was already perfect. Was that why she couldn't see it herself? Why she thought she needed to change? It was no longer an effort for Egon to admit _her_ feelings for him, however beyond his power it was to explain them, or how much he disliked them. Having once been the victim of a love spell brought on by her own wish, it was easy for him to accept that this might be another attempt to get his attention...

But surely she wouldn't think such measures were necessary. Even if he couldn't return her affections, Janine knew he cared about her... didn't she? A quick recollection of every interaction he'd ever had with her flashed almost instantaneously through his mind, and Egon was forced to confess that, no, there was no way she could know. His goal had always been to convince her otherwise, to convince the world and himself that he cared about nothing except research and scientific study, to build up an immunity to all emotion.

He had no choice. Emotions were weakness, and the only way to be strong was to remain beyond their reach. This had been drilled into him by his rigorous education; by a childhood spent amongst books and knowledge with no toys or play, with no pleasure but studying and experimenting; by a father who demanded nothing less than perfection, who viewed the slightest display of emotion as a failure of self-control. For as long as Egon could remember, he'd accepted indifference as the measure of a man. A man was invulnerable to sadness, fear, pain, guilt, or love – a scientist, even more so; the less you felt, the stronger you were, and so was your intellect.

Save for a few slip-ups here and there, such as that A- he'd once gotten in college, Egon had learned his family's lessons well. He'd learned to defend himself against the enemy of emotion, to never let his guard down, to resist the temptation to care about anything... or anyone. Whenever he sensed himself growing too happy, upset, or afraid, he pushed it away. _Irrelevant_, he'd always remind himself. _Don't let it get it to you._ Above all, never let anyone else see it. _Conceal – don't feel. Emotions are for the weak, and love is for the insecure._

And _this_ was where such thinking had brought him... But what was happening tonight couldn't be his fault. He'd only meant to do his duty as a man and as a scientist; he'd never meant to hurt Janine. But people did things without intending to all the time. Regardless of what he'd intended, had his coldness hurt Janine? If it had, wasn't that her own fault? He couldn't control how she felt, if she let her feelings for him completely override her reason and common sense. He was sorry they'd driven her to take such dangerous measures, but how could he have prevented it? He couldn't make himself love her, nor was he obligated to pretend to just to please a woman who happened to choose him to fixate on. Even in his limited knowledge of the rules of romance, he knew no one was obligated to return affections by default – logic and honesty forbade it. Janine had every right to love him, but he had every right not to reciprocate. He was completely blameless in this affair... _unless_ he was guilty of denying the truth.

_Had_ his attitude toward Janine been a lie? Egon's first answer was an automatic, _No._ He'd never pursued her – from the start, she'd always been the one pursuing him. Janine had always been the one making all the moves... and he'd let her. He'd never welcomed her advances, but he'd always accepted them. Whenever she grabbed his arm, he never shook her off. Whenever she threw her arms around him, he always held her. True, such moments had always made him feel awkward and uncomfortable, but his instinct had always been to return her embraces, not to push her away. It hadn't been a conscious decision; he'd never thought about it until now. Why had he always acted that way? Why didn't he push her away like he should have?

He didn't want to answer, and he wouldn't have if her life and soul hadn't been at stake tonight. But they were at stake, and for her sake, he had to decide once and for all. What did Janine Melnitz mean to him? He liked having her around him and working with her. He was grateful for how she kept their business running. He admired her bravery, competence, and independence. He cared deeply for her welfare. He couldn't bear the thought of life without her.

That all was relatively easy to determine. The question was, what did you call that? What was the name for the sum of such feelings? Friendship? Egon compared what he felt for Janine to what he felt for Peter, Ray, and Winston. Similar, but not the same – he felt more at ease with his friends than he did with anyone else; with Janine, he felt _least_ at ease, but some part of him didn't entirely dislike it. Brotherly? She certainly acted (at any rate, _used_ to act, before she'd been changed) like a big sister... towards the others. She bossed them around, they teased her. Egon never teased her. He couldn't imagine teasing her. He didn't want to tease, laugh, and argue with her like a brother.

What did he want? Did he want her to leave him alone? Egon could think of that – of all these complications just going away, of there being nothing to be confused about anymore – with an undeniable sense of relief. He'd be free to live the way a scientist should, and Janine would be free to... to what? To find another man? He thought of _that_ with the same shameful anger and revulsion he'd felt towards Paul Smart. He couldn't imagine Janine in love with someone else!

But the ability to be jealous didn't mean he was in love, just pathetic. Maybe he should look at this from another angle – what _did_ make a person in love? How could he answer that? He knew nothing about love. For all he knew, love _might_ simply be that feeling that you couldn't go on without someone, that knowledge that their happiness and well-being and peace of mind were necessary for your own, that determination to protect and save them at any cost... Yes, if he wasn't qualified to say what was love _was_, he wasn't qualified to say that what he felt for Janine _wasn't_ love.

If he _was_ in love with Janine, then he _had_ been lying to her. He _had_ been faking reality, denying something she would have detected, only to feel like he let her down when he refused to admit it. If she loved him and he loved her back, it would have been natural for her to continue her pursuit, expect to eventually achieve results, and be frustrated when nothing happened. Then she would have blamed herself, thought if she could just supply the one thing that was lacking, the one thing that was holding him back, preventing him from acting on his obvious feelings, she could get them both what they wanted.

She wouldn't have known that the problem wasn't any defect on her own part. Whether the ghost had convinced Janine that she wasn't attractive or played on insecurities that were already there, he didn't know, nor did it matter. Either way, one thing was clear: she'd done this to herself because he'd refused to let her know how much he cared for her.

Why had he always held back? What had he risked by opening up to Janine? Certainly not disrespect or ridicule from her or their friends – Egon knew all of them saw his stalwart stoicism as a flaw, not a virtue. The disapproval of his family in this regard was a non-issue. As she already worked with him, the effect on his work would have been minimal at most. So why did he persist in denying what he felt for her? What was he so afraid of?

His mind screeched to a halt at the thought. That was the answer. The answer to everything. He was _afraid to feel_. He'd been taught that emotions were something dangerous, to be avoided at all costs, so he'd learned to shun them the way other children learned not to play with matches or scissors or bleach. He fled from them the way others fled from rats, fire, or water. He'd always thought that made him strong, but he had never looked at it this way – the right way. He'd always seen feeling as a sign of weakness, but, in this new light, he could see that it was actually the _fear_ of feeling that was a weakness. To be afraid to feel was to admit that you weren't strong enough to bear it.

He was afraid of loving Janine. He wasn't brave enough to bear the thought of loving her, so he'd run from it instead of facing it. Once he put it that way to himself, Egon could think of no other way to describe his feelings for Janine except as love. He had lied to her and to himself not because he was cruel or ignorant but because he was a coward. It was safer to run from your feelings than to accept them, and that was all he knew how to do.

He now understood that refusing to feel was his defense mechanism of choice. It was his way of avoiding things he'd rather not face. Could he really sacrifice Janine to his dependence on that crutch? It came to that when Egon found her on the brink of losing her humanity. No, he couldn't. He wouldn't.

But was he strong enough to bring her back? Egon knew he should've brought the others! They would have had no problem reaching her. They didn't have all the defenses to break through that he did. Winston was never afraid to face anyone or anything. Ray would have shown her how much he cared without hesitation. Peter could talk anyone out of anything. But he had no idea what to do here. Logic and reason were his forte, but trying to reason with Janine didn't do any good. "How can I get through to you?!"

"You can't! You've lost her! She's mine now!"

_This_ was one of the situations where refusing to give into emotion _should_ be used: keeping a clear head in the heat of battle and ignoring the enemy taunting you. Egon was glad he had that power now, but every power had to be used wisely. Since hiding his feelings from Janine had gotten them into this mess, could the opposite save them? "No – there is a way!" But it required accepting how much she loved him and having the courage to love her in return.

Why was risking his life so much easier than risking his heart? But if he could do one, he could do the other. "You want to destroy me, Janine? I won't try to stop you." He unstrapped his proton pack and tossed it aside, leaving himself completely vulnerable before her with nothing to protect him. "But remember this... I love you!" Egon thought afterwards how appropriate it was that he removed his weapon as he said it, so that he stood before her with all his physical and emotional defenses stripped away. He'd spent his whole life building up those defenses, but he was more terrified by the thought of letting them down than he was in actually letting them down. In spite of his fear for his life and for her soul, he'd never felt more empowered than when he finally found the courage to confront that truth.

"I... I love you, too, Egon!" And because she did, Janine was able to win the struggle for her own heart, mind, and soul. Egon watched her turn on the monster, stand between her and him, protecting him from her attacks.

It had worked. He now fully knew just how wrong he'd been about love. Saving her that way, seeing her save him, made him realize that love was not a weakness but a strength, a powerful weapon, and he didn't need to run from it anymore.

"This could be fun..."


End file.
